


Going Away

by HiyaGaz



Category: Take That, gary barlow - Fandom
Genre: Bit of Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, Love, One Shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 22:12:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1664321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiyaGaz/pseuds/HiyaGaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gary chooses your annerversairy to announce that he is planning to go on tour for a while, but he'll make it up to you, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going Away

“Say something.” Gary urges, taking a long, steady sip of his wine before planting the glass firmly back down onto the table between us.  
My gaze drops to the tea light, flickering lamely at the centre of the tablecloth, then back up to Gary, before dropping again, this time to my lap before I open my mouth to speak. “I, just, I.” I swallow. Trying to find the right words. “I just miss you that all.”  
“If you don’t want me to go, I wont.” Gary counters quickly, and for a second all I want to do is throttle him, wishing that for once he would be a little less conscience of my feelings and a little more selfish.   
“No.” I shake my head and swallow, repeating myself, but more firmly this time. “No. You have to, obviously. I knew it was coming, album, promo, tour right?” I smile, despite the sinking sensation unfurling in the pit of my stomach.  
Tour. That means at least three months away. Not to mention the month of rehearsals. Early starts and late nights. Brief good mornings and feeble goodbyes. But it is, after all, what he loves. Who am I to argue?  
“Hey.” With the uncanny ability to read my mind, Gary reaches across the surplus of our dinner for my hands, running a long thumb back and forth across my knuckles. “It wont be that bad. Ill be home every couple of days.”  
“I know.” I smile quickly, to reassure myself more so than him. Waving a vague hand in the air, I swallow again. “I know, I know. Its… fine. Im… happy.”  
“You don’t sound happy.” Garys right eyebrow makes a beeline for his hairline. I giggle.  
“No, I am, I just don’t like being away from you.” I pout, twisting our fingers and drawing circles over his palm with my index finger.   
“You could come with me.”  
Frowning, I pull my hand away, picking up my own wine glass on the way back to my lap and taking a long sip. “You know I cant do that.”  
Now its Garys turn to sigh. “I know. But it was worth a try. I do miss you, you know? When im away.”  
“I know.” And I smile, because this, I know is true. “When were you thinking of going?”  
Immediately, I regret asking the question, as Garys tongue darts from his mouth to lick over his bottom lip, twice, in quick succession as he grimaces. “Three months next week.”  
I nearly choke on a glug of wine. “That soon?”  
Gary stays silent, regarding me warily over his final mouthful of Banoffee pie.   
“That’s soon.” I breathe, twisting the corner of the tablecloth between my thumb and forefinger, watching the ripples it makes each time I release it.   
“Please don’t be mad, its just the only time we could fit it in.” Garys swirls the dregs of his red wine around the bottom is glass, once, twice, three times.   
“Im not mad.” I mutter, my voice small and unconvincing. “Just.. Shocked.”   
“I know it’s a massive thing to spring on you.” Tossing his napkin onto his, now spotless, plate, Gary smiles at me delicately. “I didn’t want to tell you, ive kinda put it off for a while..”   
“Its fine.” I sigh again, feeling like ive already uttered the phrase more times in the duration of this conversation that this year alone. “Its all fine. Can we just- Can we go home now?”  
Gary nods, quickly standing from the table and offering me a hand. Allowing myself to be pulled to my feet, I bend to gather my clutch as Gary snakes an arm around my waist, tucking me, rather artfully, underneath his arm.  
“Hey, I didn’t mean to ruin the night, y’know?” He nudges my earlobe with the tip of his nose as we make our way to the exit, slipping the waiter a wodge of cash in the most glamorous Hollywood fashion as we pass by.   
I squirm, but relent and rest my head against Garys shoulder as we meander out into the night. “Youre a nightmare you know?” I cant help but smile.  
“Hmm?” Pulling me closer as the cool evening breeze whips at my bare legs, causing an involuntary shiver, the sound of Garys question vibrates against my cheek.   
“Fucking anniversary dinner and you decide to tell me youre leaving for six months!”  
“Oh don’t be ridiculous.” Gary pulls away from me, and for a second, I think ive over stepped the mark. Its only when he shrugs out of the charcoal grey blazer that his intention becomes clear. “I wont be gone half that time.” To my own relief, he smiles again, kissing my temple absentmindedly, as he drapes the blazer over my shoulders.   
“Yeah.” I scoff. “That’s what you think. Youll be extending this one, just like the last one, and the one before that!”  
“Oh babe, come on.” This time Gary grabs my waist with both hands, swinging me round to face him and earning more than a couple of tuts of disapproval from passers-by on the pavement. “What can I do to make it up to you?”  
I pout again, sensing an opportunity. After all, it is our anniversary, right? “Well…” I reach for the apex of his shirt, running a finger over the triangle of flesh where there would normally be a thin black tie. “Theres a couple of things I could think of..”   
“Oh aye?” Gary smirks, my favourite, totally lopsided smirk, his hands moving to hold the small of my back. And I giggle like a school girl. A school girl stood outside Launceston Place in the middle of a throng on people slipping past us on the narrow footpath.   
When I speak, my voice is lower than anticipated; “So, can we go home now?”

 

“Fucking hell! Calm down!” Gary admonishes as I kick the front door shut behind me. “Youll unman me!”   
“Shut up.” Is all I manage to mumble in response, my attention is solely focused on the hook and bar fastening of his trousers. I fumble to no avail, and before long, Gary has brushed my fingers away with his own, making short work of the temperamental clasp before pulling me back to my feet.   
“Come here.”   
“But I want to be down there.” I pout, tongue in cheek, and Gary laughs quietly, wrapping two solid arms around my shoulders and folding me into an embrace.   
“There have been so many times that I would’ve paid to hear you say that, but right now, I want you here.”   
“You cant want me that much.” I mope again. “Youre leaving me.”   
“For the love of God woman.” Gary sighs against my shoulder, his damp breath, a pleasant contrast to the oddly comforting scratch of his stubble. “Poof enough for you?” I feel rather than see his smile as Gary moves my hand over the hardening bulge of his trousers.  
My fingers flex of their own accord, eliciting a contented hum from Garys lips. And suddenly, im hot with desire, my mouth so dry with want, that when I speak, my voice oozes urgency. “Maybe..”

“Well then.” Gary grins back. “Its proof enough for me too.”   
And before I have chance to utter another syllable, his mouth his on mine, hot and wet and with the lingering taste of too much red wine for a Tuesday night. I moan, loudly, one hand grasping the nape of Garys neck and the other flat against his chest, his own hands move effortlessly, tracing the contours of my body that he is, by now, so familiar with. And within a second, his blazer is pushed from my shoulders and my legs, around his waist. Within two, we’re staggering backwards towards the kitchen, fumbling frantically in the darkness for more mouth and less clothes. Garys tongue slips through my open lips, drinking in each corner of my own mouth like a man starved, and I return the assult, my teeth closing around his bottom lip we collide with the kitchen island. My feet hit the floor and my hands get to work, clawing and scratching at the white linen shirt in a vain attempt to unfasten the buttons. I mange three, before I tear myself away from Garys swollen lips long enough to pull the shirt, with some ferocity, over his head and discarding it carelessly out of my line of sight.  
Garys own hands find their own way under the skirt of my dress, pulling and kneading at the flesh of my thighs so much so that I know there will be bruises there in the morning.  
“Bum up.”   
I comply, and find myself lifted without strain, onto the countertop. With only the sounds of our laboured and wanton breaths filling the room, Gary steps between my legs, reaching behind to pull down the dip of my dinner dress. I push his hands away, now too desperate to bother with the finer details. “Leave it.”  
But Gary shakes his head, leaning over me with more force this time as he pulls zipper low enough to enable him to tug the dress carelessly over my head. “I want to see you.” His teeth find his bottom lip as my dress hits the floor, and now I am sat, mounted on the kitchen island in only two scraps of material that Victoria Secrets have somehow managed to pass of as underwear.   
Gary groans, a carnal response. “Jesus, im a lucky man.” But I don’t have time to reply, my breath is taken away by a sharp bite to my neck, and another, and then another scrape of the teeth above my cleavage. I moan again, head back and completely under his spell as my bra falls away, almost unnoticed as Garys trousers are kicked in the opposite direction to both his shirt and my dress.   
“Are you sure you don’t want to go to bed?” I manage through a rising chest.   
However, no verbal answer is needed when Gary mouth slips, with a grin the rival the Cheshire Cat’s, between my legs.


End file.
